by Edie Claire
Someone’s knuckles rapped on the door. “Let us know if you need us, Zane,” Tara called sternly. “Kali can get a little… carried away sometimes.”
“It’s okay to say no!” Kylee chimed in devilishly. “You must resist those mesmerizing gray eyes of hers. It’s a trap, I tell you! A trap! Run while you can!”
Lacey snorted out a laugh in the background.
Zane threw me a wicked grin. Then he mussed his hair even more than it was already mussed, wrenched open the door, and leaned against it gasping for breath.
He rested there a moment, staring back at me with bewilderment and terror, his chest heaving. Then his gaze shifted slowly to Tara and Kylee, his composure nearly crumpling with relief. “I’m glad you’re here,” he croaked in a barely audible, raspy voice.
My friends’ jaws dropped. As one, they turned to stare at me.
I rolled my eyes with a groan. “Oh, will you stop?” I demanded, taking a step toward Zane and tickling his ribs, whereupon he immediately broke character and dissolved into laughter. I glared at my so-called best friends. “How long have you known me, anyway?”
They looked thoroughly unsettled. “But he—” Kylee pointed helplessly.
“Yeah, I know. Don’t feed his ego, will you?”
Lacey, who had been doubled over in silent laughter, came to their defense. “Don’t be too hard on them, Kal. If I don’t know him better, I would have bought it.” She shook her head at Zane with a scoff. “Trying to escape? From Kali? As if!”
Zane smiled knowingly back at her. “Good point.”
I shot him a quick glance of smugness then, and he had the nerve to look away. Wimp! We both knew he pulled away from me — and the intensity of our unnatural attraction — all the time. But that whole phenomenon was a bit difficult to explain.
“Sorry to mess with you,” he apologized half-heartedly to Kylee and Tara, “but I couldn’t resist.” He stood up tall and clapped his hands together, his green eyes twinkling. “Now… who’s ready to do the North Shore?”
***
“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Tara remarked, stretching her lean body to its full length on her beach mat. The sand of Ehukai beach was thick and comfy, the sun was shining, and the wind was blowing just enough to keep the air temperature mild.
“Ditto that,” Kylee sighed, her shoulders propped up on her elbows to keep an eye out for suitable males. “This is awesome.”
“At least if anyone drowns here, it’s on those hunky lifeguards and not me,” Lacey murmured sleepily, lying on her stomach with her eyes closed.
“Yes,” Kylee agreed, stopping just short of licking her lips as she gazed up toward the guard tower. “Isn’t it nice to have them watching out for everyone?”
I gave my own sigh of contentment. The Pipe was firing no barrels today, but the late summer waves were just high enough to make a pleasant shuffling sound upon the sand, and as soon as Zane returned from Foodland, we would have a feast. So far, the day had been idyllic. We’d packed into my dad’s car and retraced our path along the coast, stopping first to let Kylee gaze her fill at a green sea turtle on Laniakea Beach, then splashing around at Waimea Bay and taking a long walk on the scenic bike path around Pupukea. We were now both hungry and exhausted, and I followed Lacey’s lead by relaxing on my own mat and closing my eyes.
“Hottie alert, seven o’clock,” Kylee reported. “Oh! He smiled at me. He’s coming this way!”
Tara groaned. “Don’t encourage him. If he sticks around he’ll eat all our food.”
“He can have my food,” Kylee whispered, her voice dropping lower. “Check out those biceps. What a cutie! Wow, he really is coming over here! And just look at those baby blues, will you?”
I opened my eyes to find Lacey blinking back at me. Clearly having the same thought, we sat up.
“Let me guess,” Matt said smoothly, flashing Kylee a killer smile. He was wearing an athletic-fitting tee and boardshorts, and he carried a faded towel slung over his shoulder. With his solid build and powerful limbs, tamed by that adorably vulnerable baby face of his, he cut quite a picture. “You look like you’re from… hmm… don’t tell me… Wyoming?”
Kylee’s answering smile widened into a smirk. Thank God she wasn’t that gullible. She was wearing no telling sports logos — not that Wyoming had a major league franchise anyway — and her half-Vietnamese ancestry certainly offered no clue. “And you must be Matt,” she replied with amusement, extending a hand. “I’m Kylee. Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he returned, holding onto her hand a little longer than necessary.
My eyes narrowed. Excuse me? I looked over to see Lacey’s reaction, but she was half up already. As soon as she was on her feet, Matt turned and lifted her off of them, and I smiled as he twirled her about like a doll.
“Lace!” he exclaimed. “You’re alive after all! Who knew?”
She chuckled, then beat playfully on his chest until he returned her to the ground. “Don’t give me that crap! You’re the one who’s been AWOL all summer!”
“Hey, a guy’s got to make some money.”
“Well, so does a girl!”
“Yeah, okay. Fine. We’re both guilty.” He beamed down at her, one arm still wrapped around her waist, and my spirits soared. Matt was crazy about Lacey — I could tell from the twinkle in his eye. This was all going to be so easy—
He leaned down and planted a kiss square on the top of her head. Just like a doting uncle. Then he released his hold and she returned to her beach towel.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“And you must be Tara,” Matt said graciously, extending a hand to the second stranger to him, who returned it with her usual firm, businesslike grasp.
“I am,” she confirmed. “Good to meet you finally. And I take back what I said earlier. Zane is bringing food for you, so it’s okay if you stick around.” She waved a dismissive hand at Kylee. “Go ahead. Flirt away.”
Matt cracked up, and Kylee, who should have been embarrassed, had the gall to giggle. “Well, all right! Permission!”
“It’s your lucky day,” Lacey told Matt with a chortle. A totally unconcerned chortle.
No, no, no!
I stood and pulled my towel up with me. “Here, have a seat,” I instructed, gesturing Matt toward a patch of sand in between me and Lacey as the group scooted into a circle. Matt launched into a series of friendly questions about life in Wyoming, which Kylee fielded with rampant enthusiasm while Tara corrected her exaggerations and Lacey looked on with a contented smile.
My feet twitched on my towel with annoyance. Kylee and I would be having words later. Had I, or had I not, been clear about the plan? The girl monopolized Matt’s attention entirely until one of the lifeguards rolled by on his ATV, at which point her fickle gaze began to wander. Tara and Kylee started debating whether talking to a lifeguard on duty would compromise his ability to do his job, and Matt took advantage of the distraction to have a semi-private word with Lacey. “So,” he began, dropping his voice, “how’s it going with what’s his name?”
“Oh,” she said drearily. “That’s over.”
Matt’s eyes studied hers, and his face darkened. “What happened?”
Lacey shrugged off his concern. “The usual. But never mind. It was just a rebound thing, after all.”
“The usual?” he exclaimed. “Lace! I can’t believe you just said that!”
Lacey sighed. “Yes, you can.”
Matt’s expression turned thunderous. “I’ll kill him,” he said quietly.
Lacey’s cornflower blue eyes moistened a little, and her lips drew into a smile. “You know, as terrible as it is of me, I really do like that image. Still, don’t bother,” she touched Matt’s cheek lightly, then turned away again. “You’re sweet to offer, but Austin really isn’t worth the effort. I’m over him. Movin’ on!”
Matt made a low, grumbling noise in his throat. “You deserve better. You know that. Don’t you?”
&nb
sp; Lacey flushed. “Yeah. You’re right. I guess I have ‘selection’ issues.”
“Yeah. So how about you let me pick him out next time?”
My heart skipped a beat. This was all too perfect. Except that everything had gone quiet, which meant that Tara and Kylee were also now eavesdropping.
Then suddenly, Lacey laughed out loud. “Matt, will you stop? You do not have to take care of me forever just because you almost killed me in the ninth grade, okay? I forgive you.”
“You what?” Kylee cried.
“Excuse me?” Tara asked.
Through my friends’ surprised exclamations and Lacey’s chuckles, I could just make out Matt’s grumbled, “It has nothing to do with that.” He said it so sincerely and so sweetly… but of course, no one else noticed. And in the next second, he was smiling sheepishly and laughing with the rest of them. “Liar,” he teased Lacey. “You will never forgive me. You’ll hold that concussion over my head the rest of our lives.”
Lacey grinned slyly. “Maybe.”
“Concussion?” Kylee begged. “What?”
Lacey went on to tell how Matt had plowed over her backward while chasing a badminton birdie in gym class, and when she got to the point where she had blacked out, Matt picked up the story. I noticed that although Lacey treated the whole episode lightly, Matt’s guilt and horror was still raw, even after nearly three years. I wondered if maybe Lacey wasn’t right. Maybe he did feel some kind of responsibility toward her, even now. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel something else, too.
“That’s awful,” Tara sympathized, looking at Matt. “I bet you felt really weird about playing competitively with girls after that. Especially when there was a big size difference. I mean, it’s not even a gender thing, really. Accidents are just going to happen.”
Matt studied Tara with surprise. “I never wanted to play sports with girls again,” he admitted.
“Zane’s back!” Kylee crowed loudly. “Woohoo! Food!”
We looked up to see Zane standing by the picnic area, waving one arm at us while the other was weighed down with bags. My heart gave a little leap, as always, at the sight of him. I would have gone with him to the Foodland, but he insisted I stay at the beach with my friends. In retrospect, it was a good thing I had. Somebody had to keep Kylee in line!
We all rose and collected our towels. I was prepared to subtly steer Kylee away from Matt if necessary, but to my surprise, he moved away from her on his own. Straight over to Tara.
Crap.
I blew out a frustrated breath. Tara’s no-nonsense demeanor didn’t usually attract the attention of macho types, but Matt wasn’t your typical jock. Tara’s having grown up in a too-small house with too many brothers had given her rare insight into the male mind, and Matt had zoned right in on that, drat him.
“I’ve lost count of the number of injuries my brother Damon’s caused,” Tara told him easily as they walked along together. “They were all accidents. He’s not mean or anything. He isn’t even all that aggressive in sports. He’s just a dumbass. He always felt bad, but the worst was a real little guy he fell on once. Damon’s weight broke the kid’s arm. He doesn’t think anybody knows this, but…” Tara threw a wary glance at Kylee, then leaned over and whispered in Matt’s ear. She was close enough that I could just hear her, although no one else could. “Damon cried himself to sleep that night.”
Matt’s feet stopped for a second. Then his eyes sparkled at Tara even as his expression sobered. “Oh, yeah,” he said raggedly. “I hear that.”
Tara shrugged. “Well, you’re not the only one.”
Matt smiled back at her, and a flush of red colored his cheeks.
“Come on, Matt,” Kylee cooed, gesturing back at the stragglers. “Let’s eat!”
“Do I smell garlic shrimp?” Lacey exclaimed as we approached the picnic tables. She was paying no attention whatsoever to the drama behind her.
This was not how things were supposed to go!
“You did get garlic shrimp!” Lacey cried, opening one of the bags. “Zane! I thought you were just going to Foodland! This is awesome!” She jumped up and gave him a friendly hug.
Zane smiled at her, then looked at me. He cast a glance at Matt, whose eyes were on Tara, and Kylee, who was now hanging shamelessly on Matt’s arm. My lips twisted with annoyance, and Zane noticed that, too.
He arched an eyebrow, then shot me a knowing smirk.
Told you so.
Chapter 13
The picnic was awesome. Not only did Zane’s spread offer all the usual deli fare from Foodland, including fresh cut pineapple, but he’d even sprung for some genuine North Shore grindz (good eats) from the food trucks. The grindz and the company were all so good I was tempted to start dancing and make it a luau, but I knew that if I did, Kylee would join me, which was the absolute last thing Matt needed to see.
“That chicken is stalking me,” Tara observed, moving her feet away from the path of a bold red rooster that kept circling our table.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Kylee said, gesturing to a clump of bushes nearby, “that cat is stalking him.”
We all watched as a scraggly gray tabby crouched in the sand. Its eyes roamed under our table as its tail flicked.
“You’d think,” I agreed. “But as many cats as there are running wild on this island, I’ve never seen one attack a grown chicken. I think the cat and the rooster both are just waiting for our crumbs.”
“Who’s waiting? Stop that!” Tara pulled up her feet as a cream-colored hen made a dive for something inches from her toe. “Geez! Where’d she come from?”
“It’s the females you’ve got to watch out for,” Matt quipped.
“Tell me about it,” Zane agreed.
I shot him a well-deserved glare, and he grinned back at me. As cool as it was to be enjoying a picnic in the shade of the ironwood trees beside a world famous beach break with my best buds in the world, I found myself seriously craving a few more minutes of alone time with my guy.
“Oh!” I remembered conveniently. “Zane, I forgot to tell you! Guess where Tim Jones’ suitcase came from? Tahiti!”
I had his full attention. “You mean… you think he was at the Billabong Pro?”
“I know he was,” I said smugly. “He has a contest jersey in his suitcase.”
“Get out!” Zane cried aloud. “How would he get that? Who is this guy?”
The rest of us cracked up laughing. His outburst was so exuberant it scattered the chickens and scared the cat back under the bush.
“Are you sure it’s a real contest jersey?” he challenged.
I smiled as he fell unwittingly into my trap. “Well, you can see for yourself if you want. His stuff is in my trunk. We’re meeting the mysterious TJ this afternoon to drop it off.”
Zane was off the bench and on his feet. “Show me.”
Predictably, neither Matt nor Lacey cared about the jersey, and Kylee and Tara had already seen it. So Zane and I headed off alone across the carpet of scrubby grass that led to the parking lot, and I threaded my fingers through his with a smile, enjoying the feel of his arm against mine.
“You wouldn’t lie to me about a thing like this would you?” Zane asked, looking at me suspiciously.
“Of course not,” I said, trying to sound overly innocent.
“Because toying with me about something this serious would be cruel. You know that, right?” he warned.
I could not keep a straight face. “What could possibly be more serious than professional surfing?”
He was very good at keeping a straight face. “Absolutely nothing.”
I rolled my eyes. We reached the car and I popped the trunk open.
“Kali!” he cried, pulling me back.
“What?” I looked around, expecting to see some flying missile or charging dog. But I saw nothing, and as quickly as he’d tensed up, Zane relaxed again.
“Oh,” I said dryly, understanding. “If the ghost is back, just ignore hi
m. That’s what Tara does, and he doesn’t bother her at all.” I hadn’t had a chance to tell Zane what that same ghost had somehow managed to do to me in the carport the other night, but right now, I didn’t want to. It wasn’t going to happen again, because I wouldn’t let it. I double-checked my blind to make sure it was reinforced with the new platinum, then turned back to Zane. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” he answered. “It’s just that he was so close to you. But… it isn’t the same ghost.”
“Oh. Really?” I so did not want to talk about ghosts right now. I leaned in and unzipped the suitcase. The baby blue contest jersey was right on top, where I’d asked Tara to put it.
“This guy is short and bald, but he’s ripped. Another surfer, for sure,” Zane described. “He’s kind of… well, he’s gone now. But he was different. He wasn’t aggressive or anything. Just watchful. Seemed like a pretty cool guy, actually.”
“Yeah, that sounds like the one Kylee saw at Kailua Bay yesterday.” Enough about dead people. I pulled out the jersey and shook it in the air in front of Zane. “Ta-da!”
He stared at it like I’d offered him the holy grail.
“This is a real world tour jersey,” he murmured, taking it from my hands and studying it with reverence. The shirt was lightweight and stretchy, meant to fit tight, and it had the Billabong logo on the chest and other sponsorship logos over the shoulders. Surfers in the same heat wore different colors, rather than numbers, to distinguish themselves for the judges.
“Would I lie?” I teased. “Tim Jones must know somebody. Or else he found it scrapped on the beach. What do you think?”
Zane shrugged. “He could work for the organizers. Maybe it’s a spare?”
“If he works for Billabong, why’s he packing AirTide boardshorts?” I questioned.
Zane folded the jersey carefully and returned it to the suitcase. “You mean these?” he asked, lifting out the red and black boardshorts. “Nice. When did you say you’re going to meet this guy?”
